I'm at a get together for my girlfriend's boyfriend's brother's birthday. My girl B was nice enough to host it at her place, so we're just hitting the keg and the grill, laughing at all the distinguished mentally-challenged fellows who started drinking at 4pm.
Mexican families are huge and winding so there's like 30 people wandering through the house, but minimal drama most the night - despite the fact that one of B's enemies was there. The dreaded friend of her man's ex. DUN DUN DUN. That's foreshadowing.
Eventually, a scream is heard from the bathroom. Shrill; piercing - someone's been scarred for life. Know why? They put their foot down on the bathroom rug and SHIT squished out from under it.
A big pile of steaming, human shit. Left in the bathroom floor by the toilet, and meticulously covered with B's new rug.
The friend of the ex was suspiciously missing when martial law was thrown down and everyone in the house questioned.
Dogs shit in the floor, not people. I suggested we go find the bitch and put her on a choke chain and take her for a walk in the park, to teach her how to go to the bathroom the right way.
